Golden

The grandparents are celebrating their 50th Golden Anniversary this weekend. That's fifty years of togetherness and the same person to come home to. A milestone; it's hard to stand a single person for fifty years straight. It's even harder when you're married.

Gramma still gives Granddad rubdowns every night, and he still refuses to drive her anywhere. She doesn't mind this, because she loves to walk. He gardens and loves to have structures made; she makes banana cakes and loves her job. He's a lawyer; she teaches.

For as long as I've known them both, they've always done their own thing, but put up a united front. They make a point of going to mass together. Gramma explained this to me a long time ago. They each have a set portion of the myriad bills that come with marriage, so there's no fighting and no problems. They both know what they have to do, and they get it done.

They are two of the most independent and driven people I have ever gotten the chance to know - I think that's the glue that binds them together. They were hip before the word 'hip' was even coined. Being the head of the family Granddad had to make the hard decisions. Gramma was never the stay-at-home happy housewife; I think she'd have gone nuts if she had to stay at home with the vacuum cleaner and waited for the husband to bring home the bacon. She didn't neglect the housewife bit, though. And he had double duty as the dad/mom when she went to the States to get an advanced degree. He pulled it off - all the kids finished college. Futuristic. I don't really know how they did it, they just did.

Fifty years, five kids, eight grandkids and one great-grandchild later, they're celebrating the Golden Anniversary that so few manage to reach in the age of divorces and annulments. But these two very special people managed it.

I've never been a big one for the institution of marriage. It's daunting and it always has the power to unnerve me. The idea of total togetherness in foreverness and mortgages.

Poring through the wedding pictures my Gramma locked away in a vault, all the pictures of the children and the life they've shared for the past fifty years is a poignant experience.

Maybe it's all worth it after all. This is what people dream of; a wonderful lifetime with the one you love. Holding hands until the sun sets. Going your own way in the day, but always getting back together to share the night. I'm glad these two have that.

Viddy This

Backstreet Boys - Helpless When She Smiles

The Backstreet Boys are proof positive that I at least had a little taste in high school. Yes, yes I know, it's horrible. Glad they managed to redeem themselves from dancing around on a giant disco ball in the late '9os. In essence their performance these days helps redeem my ridiculousness for actually liking them. AJ however, looks like he's on roids, his neck is so thick. Then again, he does sing for his supper. I still heart their brand of music. They're all married and taken now. Nick, you are still gay as heck. Howeeeee! Ay lab you!



Linkin Park - Shadow of the Day

Okay - is Linkin Park the new U2? Because their past two videos are all about current issues and civil unrest. Fighting for a place in UNICEF. Love the song, though. Chester, please try to keep your shirt on. Where's Mike Shinoda and the drummer, dammit? Too good for this video.

Love in the Rinse Cycle

So yesterday,I decided to haul-ass to Lavada Queen, the one self-service laundromat in town that I know about. I was pissed with my laundry person, for continually delivering my clothes a week late and didn't feel like letting him have my money this week. Unfortunately I had a pile of dirty clothes and nothing to wear to show for my pissy, hissy fit. Jet recommended LQ, so I went.

Why, you ask? Aside from the pleasure of depriving my laundry person of my money, I just wanted to see what it was like to do my own laundry in the big city. At a laundromat. Fine, fine, I'm a sucker for buttons and I like pushing them. I also wanted to do the whole do-rag in the hair, trashy novella in hand, waiting for the rinse cycle to get completed thing. And yes, sometimes I like to think that my life is a movie, complete with a soundtrack and everyone is watching. So I wanted to give the watchers a sense of being real.

(I can see Illi rolling his eyeballs in NYC right now.)

Upon arrival, I had to ring a bell, which brought the pretty, fifty-something owner to me. She asked if I had detergent. I said yes. Asked if I had fabric softener. It's too strong a smell for me, so I opted out. I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, and felt like a complete idiot. Then the help (the owner had disappeared by this time around) just fiddled around, while I stood gaping. They didn't give me time to read the instructions! I wanted to push my own buttons, dammit! It's all so fascinating. A token! And you make it go in the machine. And the machine goes bloop, bloop, bloop.

God, I am soooo third-world.

Anyway, I grabbed a two year-old issue of the Philippine Tatler and waited until the washer was done. I got to push the button this time, loading it into the dryer.

It's a good two hours of my life I'll never get back, and I'm not sure the whole experience was worth the money it took, but I had fun anyway. And I hope the watchers did too. As much fun as you can have waiting for laundry to dry.

I never did get to do the do-rag thing though.

Headline Porn

Demanding, much?

Save us, Angelina! I'm not sure we're poor or war-torn enough for the Jolie. Somehow I don't think she'll hear the cries. Especially since I really don't think the reason is upfront. I sense an ulterior motive: spank bank!

Can't Stop the Feelin'

For Illi.

I think that's Patrick de Guzman. He was such a hot hunk of meat. I remember crushing on him way back. Where is he now anyway?

Videoke Princesses

Had a fun Friday with Paulie - videoke-ing it up like there was no tomorrow.

The thing about videoke is, I've never liked it. It's always been an exercise in drunken San Mig Lites, a bajillion cigarettes, and talking about inconsequential bullshit. I never got the drunk, smoking part of it (probably because I don't drink/smoke). This one was done stone cold sober.

I suppose videoke is fun when you're singing it up with a crazy, fabulous fagette like Paulie - Paraiso is the theme of the day.